On Friday night, I was watching Real Time with Bill Maher and the panel discussion inevitably went to the subject of Donald Trump. For those of you living under a rock, Donald Trump is the Republican nominee for President. His campaign has been filled with so many gaffs that it’s no longer funny to make fun of him. It’s a frightening reality that he could potentially be the next President of the United States.

So as Bill Maher’s panel, featuring Rob Reiner, went in to discuss this particularly ridiculous week in Trump’s campaign, I settled in for a few laughs (because if we don’t laugh, we might have to cry over this new reality). So here I was, all ready to laugh, when Rob Reiner exclaimed: “He’s mentally ill!” Reiner repeatedly and emphatically called Donald Trump mentally ill. Maher went one step further and joked: “This is the first Presidential candidate that has been nominated from the loony bin.”

In terms of discussing Donald Trump, this isn’t anything new. Actually, at least Reiner and Maher were joking. There’s been rampant speculation in the media on whether or not Trump has Narcissistic Personality Disorder or if he’s a sociopath. Headlines talking about Trump often have the words “crazy” and “insane” in them. Additionally, California Democratic Representative, Karen Bass, actually launched a Change.org petition calling for mental health professionals to demand that the GOP evaluate Trump’s mental health. This launched the #DiagnoseTrump hashtag, which quickly started trending.

Now, I’ll be the last person to rush to Trump’s defense. I find him a reprehensible individual. His policies are a joke. His xenophobia, racism, bigotry, and misogyny are frightening. I’m also not necessarily ruling out the fact that he might be suffering from some sort of personality disorder either. But we need to stop the arm chair diagnosing and stop calling him mentally ill in the media.

When we equate a person like Trump with mental illness we’re creating a false equivalency. We’re saying that Trump’s vile actions and words is what mental illness looks like, which is patently untrue. Those of us who suffer from a mental illness are generally kind, compassionate, and sensitive people and to be lumped in with a disgusting person like Trump is unfair. His behaviour and ideologies are embedded in xenophobia, racism, bigotry, and misogyny and not in some underlying mental illness.

Calling Trump mentally ill also further stigmatizes an already marginalized group of people. People living with a mental illness often live in secret because they’re afraid of what coming forward about their illness might mean for their relationships and careers. Equating mental illness with Donald Trump further perpetuates the idea that mental illness is something “bad” or negative and should be hidden. This may stop people from seeking help they desperately need because they don’t want to be associated in the same category as Trump.

Finally, by calling Donald Trump mentally ill as a means of explaining why he’s unfit for the presidency we’re suggesting that a mental illness makes people ill-equipped for leadership positions in general. Now, I’m not saying Trump isn’t unfit for the presidency. That’s not up for debate in my opinion. He is. But it’s not because he has a mental illness. The reality is that people who suffer from a mental illness are no less capable than people without a mental illness. Just because you have bipolar disorder doesn’t mean you can’t become the CEO of a company. Your depression won’t stop you from becoming a doctor. Your anxiety won’t stop you from being a teacher. If you have a mental illness you should still be able to be the damn President of the United States. We need to stop equating mental illness with incompetency.

Starting the week of July 25th I will be re-entering the workforce for the first time in over a year. I’m going back to work. The words fill me with excitement and anxiety. I’m excited about feeling like a contributing member of society again. I’m excited about having something that gives me purpose. But I’m also anxious.

What if work doesn’t want me? What if my boss thinks I’m a liability? What if my coworkers think I’ve been faking it? What will it be like walking into the office again after all of this time? Will everyone stare? Will they ask me how I am? Do they even care? What if they try to fire me? What if they like my replacement more than me? What if there’s no longer any place for me there? They’ve done so well without me for over a year.

These are the (irrational) thoughts that are cycling through my brain. I try and remind myself that there are policies in place that protect me from being fired due to illness. I try and remind myself that my boss is a kind and caring individual. I try and remind myself that colleagues are probably too focused on their own lives to even think about me. I try and remind myself that people are generally kind and will have more concern for my well-being than being cruel.

Unfortunately this doesn’t stop the anxiety from creeping up. I’ll be watching TV or riding my bike and suddenly my chest tightens, my throat constricts, and my arms tingle. And yes, I’ve tried talking about my fears with various people. I tried talking it out with my therapist who simply told me, “These aren’t productive thoughts to have.” Like, oh shit, I’m so fucking enlightened now. My husband reminds me of the rational counterpoints to my irrational fears. And although I appreciate it, it still doesn’t stop the thoughts from coming back. My friends, who are also colleagues, remind me of the kindness and understanding that people can have towards those of us who suffer from a mental illness. But these aren’t the people I’m worried about. These are the people who know me and my illness. I’m worried about the people who don’t.

And these are just the tip of the ice berg of fears that I have about going back to work. There’s also the thoughts that are about my recovery and my mental health. What if I’m not ready? What if I fail? What if I go back only to relapse all over again? I don’t think I could take such a huge set back. It’s only been five months since I was hospitalized because of my depression. Only fives months ago I was seriously thinking about suicide. Only five months ago I had thoughts of self-harm.

Then I have to stop and remind myself that that was five months ago. That was then, this is now. I remind myself that my psychiatrist, who helped me through that depression, thinks I’m ready.

I feel ready.

I’ve been stable for three months. My medication is working. I sleep well. I’m working out. I’m socializing. I’m cooking and eating like a normal person. I’m happy and healthy.

I know my anxieties about returning to work won’t go away. Actually, I expect them to increase incrementally as my start date approaches. Despite all of this there’s one major shift that has happened over the past year that I know will ensure that my return-to-work is successful.

I’ve acknowledged that my mental health has to be a priority.

Bipolar disorder isn’t something that I can ignore and expect to be healthy. My mental health is something that I need to work at everyday. I need to find productive ways to manage my stress, like working out and asking for help when I need it. I need to make sure I’m eating well. I need to make sure I’m sleeping well. I need to make sure I’m making time for fun and not working all of the time.

If I can manage all of this, despite my anxieties about returning, I know I can make my return to work successful. So wish me luck!

Language is a powerful tool. It has the ability to rouse people into a frenzy. It can inspire people to create. It can touch people’s souls. But sometimes, language has the ability to hurt. The old adage goes: “sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” Well in my experience that just isn’t true. Words can cut to the bone. And sometimes it’s the most benign situations that can incite the most hurt.

I was in a situation recently where someone said some careless things. The conversation revolved around a new mental health and addiction facility that was being built. The facility was across the street from this person’s home. That’s when the word crazy was thrown around. Someone said:

“You’re going to have all of those crazies in your backyard now.”

I sat there, shifting in my seat uncomfortably, as their words sunk in. In this person’s mind, people who access services offered by a mental health and addiction facility were crazy. This means, as someone who routinely accesses mental health services, I am crazy.

I’m not fucking crazy.

I have a mental illness.

People who access mental health services are not fucking crazy. They have a disease that is no different than having cancer or diabetes. Why is it okay to throw around the word crazy like it’s no big fucking deal?

Now, I’m not suggesting this particular individual had any ill intention behind their word choice. It was a casual remark, made in jest. Had they known about my situation, maybe they wouldn’t have made the remark. But that’s sort of the point. We shouldn’t only care about the language that we use when we personally know someone who may be hurt or offended by our words. We should be consciously choosing our words to ensure that no one is hurt or offended by them — whether we know their situation or not.

Now you may be thinking that I’m being oversensitive and should learn to take a joke. But the truth is, using words like crazy, lunatic, or psycho stigmatizes a group of people who were among the unlucky that got stuck with a disease. Using words like crazy can prevent people from seeking help because they’re afraid of being called crazy. Or, they may already think they’re crazy because of the stigma associated with having a mental illness. The fact that people can laugh so easily when the word crazy is thrown around to describe people with serious mental health issues illustrates the pervasive stigma that is associated with having a mental illness. You wouldn’t make fun of a person who had diabetes, cancer, or any other illness. So why is it okay to make fun of people who suffer from a mental illness?

Over time there have been many words that we no longer use because they’re offensive or derogatory to a group of people. I think it’s high time we retired the word crazy when talking about people who suffer from a mental illness. The reality is mental health problems are pervasive. Every Canadian will be touched by mental illness through a family member, friend, or colleague. 1 in 5 Canadians will suffer from some form of mental illness or addiction in their lifetime. So the next time you’re thinking about calling someone a lunatic, psycho, or crazy take a moment to reflect on who you’re with and that it’s very likely that someone in the room suffers from a mental illness. You wouldn’t call your friend with depression crazy, would you?

On Sunday, June 12 a gunman killed 49 people at a gay nightclub, Pulse, in Orlando, Florida. It’s being called the worst mass shooting in U.S. history. The perpetrator has been identified as Omar Mateen. In an attempt to explain this tragedy, reports have said that he had ties to ISIS.

But it never stops there. It was inevitable. Reports started coming out that Omar Mateen was bipolar and “mentally unstable.” Of course. Of course he is. It’s bad enough that a mass shooting happens on a semi-regular basis in the U.S., but it’s even worse when every single one of them are attributed to some form of mental illness. He was Schizophrenic. Bipolar. Depressed.

Well, I’m really tired of being lumped in with people who commit atrocious acts. I have bipolar disorder and I have never taken a gun and gone on a shooting rampage. In my worst mania or depression, I have never even had a violent thought. And then there are these comments: “Of course he had a mental illness. You need to be crazy to do what he did.” Well, I’m also really fucking tired of people equating the word crazy with having a serious mental illness. We’re not fucking crazy, we’re sick.

Let’s go over the facts about mental illness, violence, and more specifically, gun violence. First, experts have reported that “people with a mental illness like schizophrenia or severe depression are no more likely to commit gun violence than anyone else.” Second, people with a mental illness are no more violent than anyone else. Third, a person with a mental illness is actually more likely to be a victim of violence rather than a perpetrator of it. You heard that right. A VICTIM OF VIOLENCE.

The media often portrays those of us suffering from a mental illness as dangerous or scary and when reports allege that a shooter was bipolar, or more commonly, schizophrenic, we start to equate these illnesses with violence. This in turn furthers the stigma about people with a mental illness. The underlying message is that a psychotic break makes someone go on a shooting rampage. But, violence and psychosis, hallucinations, or paranoia don’t go hand in hand. Someone who is receiving effective treatment for their disorder is no more prone to violence than anyone else.

So can we just stop blaming mental illness on mass shootings already? Mass shootings are a complex subject. The truth is, we’re too quick to jump on the “of course he was crazy” bandwagon. Instead why don’t we talk about how issues like misogyny, bigotry, and radical religious beliefs (Christian or Islamic) are often at the root of these mass shootings? Because it’s just easier to say that “he was crazy” and continue on with your day.

I didn’t want to write this piece because I was afraid of co-opting a tragedy from a community that is still in grief. But, the reality is, LGBTQ youth are 4 times more likely to attempt suicide than their heterosexual peers. LGBTQ people are at a greater risk of having mental health problems than the general population. So, blaming this shooting, or any other, on mental illness further stigmatizes an already marginalized community and I think that’s worth talking about.

Please note: Since publication of this post XOJane has apologized for publishing an article that “perpetuated stigma and diminished the lives of people with mental illness.”

In a list of top ten fucked up things I have recently read the article, “My Former Friend’s Death Was a Blessing,” is definitely number one. XOJane published this piece of shit that simultaneously perpetuates stigma towards people who suffer from a mental illness while promoting suicide.

The author, Amanda Lauren, talks about her former friend, Leah, who suffered from Schizoaffective Disorder. She spends an inordinate amount of time talking about how Leah was a filthy, boyfriend stealing, good-for-nothing parasite whose “mental illness took demonic possession over her.” Lauren writes: “there was always something about her that wasn’t quite right.” She then goes on a rant about all the petty things that Leah did wrong and why the author eventually ended their friendship.

The description of Leah as “filthy” and her inability to keep a job are essentially a caricature of people suffering from a mental illness. We’re all incapable of holding a job or keeping a tidy house because our illnesses “possess us.” The reality is that those of us who suffer from a mental illness lead full and productive lives. And although the Lauren writes: “I realize there are plenty of seriously mentally ill people who take meds and get better. I don’t think the prognosis for all people diagnosed with severe mental illness is death. There are people who learn to manage and live happy and productive lives,” I don’t believe her.

If she truly believed this I think she would have extended a hand to help her friend rather than watch Leah’s deteriorating state via Facebook in a “Mean Girl’s kind of way.” Unlike what the author believes, it wasn’t the Schizoaffective Disorder that “robbed [Leah] of reaching her full potential.” It was the fact that she didn’t receive help.

People suffering from a mental illness can lead full and productive lives, but only if they receive effective treatment. Unfortunately only 43% of adults with a mental illness receive help and the main factor in preventing people from seeking help is stigma. It’s bullshit articles like this one that stigmatize those of us who suffer from a mental illness and stop us from asking for help. Lauren, Leah and by extension other people suffering from a mental illness, are “beyond help” and therefore shouldn’t be given a fucking ounce of consideration. We’re not some fucking train wreck to be watched from afar and then held up as some sort of karmic tragedy.

But it’s not just the stigma that this article perpetuates and the insensitivity of Lauren that I find appalling. It’s the fact that a media outlet like XOJane thought it was smart to publish a piece of writing that essentially argues that people with a mental illness are better off dead.

And this isn’t hyperbole. Lauren literally writes that her former friend is better off dead: “It sounds horrible to say, but her death wasn’t a tragedy, her life was.” This is a fucking horrible thing to say and she is a horrible fucking person for saying it. The piece is essentially an encouragement to an extremely vulnerable population that suicide is an acceptable means to end their suffering. The article promotes the idea that people with a mental illness shouldn’t be alive and that our lives are a “tragedy.”

In the ten years or so that I have suffered from Bipolar Disorder, I have had a few depressions that resulted in my hospitalization because of suicidal thoughts. Most recently, in February, I was seriously considering jumping off the top floor of my apartment building because I couldn’t deal with the pain of my disease any longer.

Lauren and XOJane, in a very public space, vocalized all of the thoughts that were already tumbling through my head. “I’m worthless.” “My life is pointless.” “I’m a waste of space.” “I’m better off dead.” Had I read this article in February, on the edge of that precipice between ending my life or continuing to fight, this article may have been the push I needed.

It’s completely irresponsible to publish writing like this and XOJane should be ashamed of themselves. Suicide is never a blessing.

All I want to say to anyone who will listen is to not give up hope and never think that you are beyond help. You just keep fighting and there are always people out there who care if you live or die.

For more on this topic I suggest reading this open letter by Sam Dylan Finch.